Doctor Ivo Robotnik looked up from the computer terminal where he was working. "You do realize I'm not that kind of doctor, don't you?" he questioned his guest.
His visitor, a young hedgehog woman, snorted and stomped her foot slightly. "I know that, Ivo," She retorted, boldly using his first name, as few around the area did. "But you're the only person around here who would actually know what the hell they're doing, and I really could care less about whether or not you're licensed."
"You could just visit the hospital in the village." Robotnik suggested, but he could tell just by the look on her face that was a bad suggestion.
"I don't like hospitals." She said flatly. "I don't even like you that much, but at least you're not so..." She trailed off for a moment, searching for the right word. "Bleached?"
Ivo 'tch'ed and rolled his eyes. Had it been anyone else who had said that to him, he would have been furious, but he knew the woman well enough to know her blunt statements were simply a side effect of her tendency to say whatever was on her mind. "Let me get this straight, Clary - you're willing to put yourself and potentially others in considerable danger just to avoid facing whatever phobias you have about hospitals?"
"I am not going to the hospital! They're too clean, too white!" Clary immediately ranted. "The second you step through those doors, you're no longer a person, just a specimen to them! Like you're just some common goods! It's maddening!"
Ivo threw up his hand in a calming gesture, and luckily she did actually calm, but not before throwing out an expletive or two first. Her brain-to-mouth filter really is missing, isn't it? Ivo thought to himself. Although he was not close with Clary, or indeed any of the sapients that lived in the village just a few miles down the road from him, he did see her on a semi-regular basis, and out of all of the people living down there, he had to admit he did probably like her more than the others. It was most likely because of this that he put up with her... outspoken personality.
"I have money." She bargained. "Plenty of it. I bet it could keep your projects running for quite some time. Ivo..." she continued quieter, dropping her gaze for a moment, just a moment. The hedgehog was far too proud to beg, or even to say 'please,' but this was something she truly needed.
Now Ivo was both slightly impressed and annoyed. He too was fully aware of the girl's tremendous pride, and the amount of effort it must have took for that simple plead. He was also aware that she had struck a nerve with him in talks of money. Funding for his projects was rather difficult for him, not because what he did wasn't impressive enough, but because he lacked the people skills to win potential investors over. It was part of the reason why he lived so far away from others. Although he tried to fight it, he couldn't stop his eyes from lingering over several of his prototypes scattered around his workshop. A small ladybug-looking contraption with a single wheel lay on one table, incomplete. A flying circular cockpit sat limp in the pit where he last worked on it, unable to continue working on the delicate, often microscopic, circuitry with his outdated tools. Finally, on one desk sat a whole mass of blueprints, each depicting a new and exciting project that were very unlikely to get off the ground for at least another few years. Unless he could speed up the process.
A heavy sigh escaped him as he realized the decision had already been made for him. "Very well."
A spark of excitement mixed with relief shot through her eyes, before she quickly composed herself, straightening up and nodding her head, as though that was the outcome she had been expecting all along. "Very well." She echoed. "Let's get started then, shall we?"
Ivo smiled to himself as he realized the decision had already been made the instant she walked through the door. After all, given her position, it would be unbearably callous, even by his standards, to turn her away.
"Where do you want me?" Clary asked, stepping into the lab.
Ivo pointed to a mostly-uncluttered lab table near one corner of his not-unimpressive lab. "Just move some things if you need to, I hardly ever touch that stuff anyway."
The hedgehog obediently strode over to the table, only needing to move one or two things before lightly hopping up on to the table with a catlike grace. Which was appropriate, given that she was half cat, on her mother's side. From this position she watched him dig through a couple boxes along the nearby wall.
The first box he pulled out looked to Clary to be an oversized stethoscope, but missing the earpieces. Instead cords ran and tangled into a rat's nest, leaving the ends somewhere in the box. The second almost resembled the screen one might find on a laptop computer, but missing the keyboard, or really any kind of button Clary could see. Ivo began talking while he continued hunting around in the boxes for a third.
"I created a device a few years ago, to help people see in the dark. A military contract, as I recall. The idea was, rather than try to amplify light, as my competitors were doing, I choose to go a different route. The machine works by emitting high-pitched frequencies, which then bounce off whatever objects they come into contact with and return to the sender. The machine would then record the sounds and calculate the time it took for them to return, and create a moving, if somewhat grainy picture based on those calculations. Genius, if I do say so myself. Mine was the only device to work in levels with absolutely no light at all."
"They could have just gotten bats, you know." Clary pointed out.
"Pardon?" Ivo said, momentarily forgetting his search.
"Bats." The hedgehog repeated. "My friend's one, she uses the exact same technique all the time. Echolocation, you know?"
"Yes, well..." Ivo coughed. "That is where I got the idea..."
Clary smiled. "It is impressive that you managed to take that evolutionary tool and make it into a thing everyone can use." She said, deciding to throw the doctor a bone.
Ivo scoffed. "I don't need your pity." he insisted, to Clary's amusement. Returning to his search, he finally found what he was looking for, pulling a long, black cord the width of his middle finger with bizarre plugs on the ends out of a huge tangle of others, finally getting off his knees and grabbing the other boxes, placing them on a counter near the table where his visitor was still waiting.
"This device will suit our needs well enough," Ivo said, pulling the stethoscope echolocation device out and plugging one end of the cord into it. "But rather than the night-vision goggles, I need something a tad more clear." He used a nearby screwdriver to pop the casing on the screen, exposing the wires. "As usual, the two devices I need aren't compatible, so I'm going to have to jury-rig this output cable to make it work properly..."
Around this time Clary zoned out, and only came back around when he made a noise to indicate he was done. "Are you ready?" He asked her.
She nodded, and tugged her shirt up until it only covered her breasts. "Don't peek." She ordered firmly, and lay back on the table. It was uncomfortable for her even without the cold steel biting into her bare back, as just the position she was in made her feel... exposed.
Ivo just snorted. "Believe me, Clary, even if you were my own species I wouldn't." he replied, then got to work. For several minutes he was totally silent as he went about his work, and Clary had to resist the urge to fidget, especially with the bizarre metal instrument pressed against her stomach. At first, he held it in just one place, focusing the picture on the screen, then he began to move it around some, first pressing into one side, then another, until Clary was one hundred percent sure he was drawing this out on purpose. Within around five minutes, though it seemed longer to the prone hedgehog, he finally switched the echolocation device off and returned to the screen, flipping it over so that Clary could see the image for herself. The image was in very blurry grayscale, and very few details could be made out, until Ivo pointed a finger at a circular patch darker than the surrounding area.
Clary swallowed, her mouth suddenly very dry.
Ivo turned up the contrast a little on the screen, but in Clary's mind, she didn't need it. She already knew every minute detail of the patch on the screen. "Congratulations, Clary. You're pregnant."
She left the lab in a daze, not even bothering to barter with him on the amount of money for his unorthodox services. Not that she would have anyways, money always had a habit of burning a hole in her pocket. Her roommate would often joke and say she had expensive tastes, but honestly, Clary rarely even cared about her purchases. There was an entire closet in the three bedroom house the girls shared together dedicated to the things she had been dying to buy, and then forgot about the instant she got home.
Almost automatically Clary's mind shifted to the things she'd have to buy now: blankets, toys, clothes, a crib, diapers... her stomach twisted up in knots at the thought of it. How on Earth was she supposed to be a mother?
In a sense, she was grateful for the seclusion of the lab, as it gave her time to think before she had to entire the hustle and bustle of the village. The path was not steep, but it was uneven, overgrown with weeds and dotted with potholes. The whole dirt road had a tendency to sway side to side, as though the man who cleared it had been drunk. In short, it was the perfect challenge for Clary.
She dropped to one knee, lifting her body into the sprinter's position she knew so well, tensing up like an arrow, pointing straight down the road. On a silent gunshot, she sprang forward, letting the wind and momentum push her back upright, feeling her muscles bunch and fire in quick succession.
Taking her breaths in in short, quick gasps through slightly parted mouth, as she had been trained, she willed herself to go faster. Using techniques her father and uncle had taught her, she used everything from passing trees to the pounding of her footsteps to check her speed, and used that to push her even faster. Now she was going 60 miles an hour, now 70, now 90, one hundred. If she could move her face, she would smile. Let's shoot for 150.
That was another technique they taught her: always go a little bit faster than you think you can. Memories flashed unbidden before her mind, memories of her and her father, and sometimes even her uncle, all running side by side, breaking records, doing tricks, daring each other to go faster, faster, faster. Those were the days...
She mentally shook her head and frowned. Those days weren't really that great, and besides that, they were over now.
She hit her mark just as she reached the edge of the road, her face stretched wide into a grin of triumphant satisfaction as she uses her momentum to clear a fallen tree at the edge, sailing over it and grinding her heels into the dirt on the other side to slow herself. Her victory pushing the negative thoughts out of her head, she tossed her quills over her shoulder, looking back the way she came. Although she still stressed over the day's events, the run had at least managed to help a little bit. Now, however, she was approaching the village, and one too many collisions with hapless pedestrians had taught her to take it slow while in densely populated areas, or at least what qualified as densely populated here on Christmas Island.
She snorted. Most of the people living here had done so all their lives, and she was willing to bet even the thought of the big cities that lay beyond was too much for them.
Although she had slowed up in order to avoid collisions, she still moved with brisk, sharp steps, at a pace that most people would have to jog to keep up with. She was in no hurry - it was simply in her nature not to dally anywhere. Clary's posture was perfect, her back straight, her shoulders thrown back, her chin up and eyes facing directly forward. Although she had no threatening look on her face, people passing by her unconsciously gave her a wide berth, some even stepping down from the curb into the street rather than face her head on.
Out of the corner of her eye, Clary saw her reflection in a shop window, and tossed her violet hair back into place, disheveled from her furious run. Although she was very beautiful in her own right, and entertained plenty of suitors, Clary looked anything but ordinary. Her rigid posture, combined with her natural height, gave her quite a few inches over most other Mobians, especially other hedgehogs. She certainly took after her father in terms of species, showing little cat traits save for slightly longer ears and a tail, but traces of her mother's white hair showed through the periwinkle of her normal fur, especially in her ears and around her chest. She was, in short, a sight to look at, and it was often only her sharp tongue and cold glares that insured she remained undisturbed when she wanted to be.
Her house wasn't far from the edge of the village, and she reached it within a few minutes. A quaint little two-story house with a flowerbed surrounding the porch (her roommate's doing - Clary herself was never much for gardening). The outside was not painted, if only for the simple reason that she and her could never agree on a color for it, but the wood was a good quality, and stood up to the weather well, and so Clary did not complain. Simple it was, but it was warm in the winter and cool in the summer, and that was all that mattered to her.
Opening the front door, she announced her arrival with a sarcastic "Lucy, I'm home!" before taking off her purple jacket and tossing it to the side, where it landed at the foot of the coat rack.
She found her roommate in the kitchen, doing the dishes from breakfast this morning. When they had first moved in, Clary had been unable to believe her luck at finding a roommate that actually enjoyed doing chores.
"Hey, Silvia, I'm back." Clary greeted.
"Did he agree to do it?" her roommate, a black cat about her age, asked, too curious to bother beating around the bush. "What was the diagnosis?"
Clary sucked in a deep breath as she tossed herself into her usual spot at the table. "Affirmative."
Silvia whistled lowly, unable to come up with words. "Well, then."
"Ugh." Clary flopped her head on the table.
"Melodramatic as ever." Silvia noted, rolling her eyes and turning around to go rifling through the cupboards.
"This is important, Silv. What am I gonna do?" the hedgehog groaned.
"You know, most women your age are ecstatic that they'll be new mothers." Silvia said, pulling a teakettle down and moving to fill it up.
"Don't say the 'M' word!"
"You're having a baby, Clary, you're already kind of a mother." Silvia continued, filling the kettle in the sink.
"Don't say the 'B' word either!"
"Now you're being ridiculous." Silvia said. She set the kettle on, turned on the stove, and went to sit across from her at the table. "Like it or not, you're in this situation, and you might as well make the best of it. You have the funds to raise a child?"
A slight nod from Clary.
"You have the house already; we could convert the guest room into a nursery pretty easily."
Another nod, this time thoughtful.
"You think Doctor Robotnik would be willing to continue giving assistance?"
Clary cleared her throat and spoke up. "He might take some convincing, but... I think so, yes."
"Alright then." It was Silvia's turn to nod. "There you go. You have money, you have a nursery, you have an obstetrician slash pediatrician. What else do you need?"
This time, there was a slight 'thunk' as Clary's head hit the table. "It's not even that," she complained, "It's... me! I mean, look at me, Sil! How am I supposed to be a mother? I can't keep my temper under control, I'm always rushing around, I'd have no time to change diapers or kiss boo-boos, or whatever it is mom's do! I'd be hopeless as a mother!"
"Then learn." Silvia said coolly, standing to fetch the teapot off the stove and began pouring the hot water into two mugs.
"From who?" Clary asked.
"You have one, don't you?" Silvia retorted. "Why not ask her?"
It was probably a good thing that she was turned away from the hedgehog, as the look on Clary's face could be described as nothing short of murderous. "I will not speak with any them for any reason." She all but spat. "They are all exactly where I want them: out of my life."
"Alright, alright." Silvia surrendered. "If you're so sure, you may as well just rely on your own maternal instincts. Even someone like you should have them." When Clary opened her mouth to object, she quickly blocked her. "Or you could ask one of the local gossips around town. Take Ruth, she's got, like, eight kids."
That shut up her argument quickly, as Silvia knew her roommate's obvious distain for the loose lipped (among other things) gossip known as Ruth. She and a group of her peers were often seen on the front porch of their houses smoking cigarettes and taking turns shouting hoarsely at whatever child happened to be acting up, or shopping the flea market with an entire herd of wild haired, dirty kids in tow. Although no one in town knew more about pregnancies than she, it was highly unlikely Clary would ever ask her for anything, much less child rearing tips.
"...Fine." Clary mumbled, recognizing her own arguments had backed her into a corner. "Maybe I do have some inner mom in me somewhere. I know I'll do a better job than my mother, at least." She comforted herself.
"And you'll have me for help." Silvia said, pulling a teabag out of one of the cups and turning to give it to Clary. She sat down again, leaving her own teabag still in. When Clary looked confused, Silvia just laughed. "What? Did you think I was just going to sit around and watch you try to raise the kid by yourself? I'm your roommate, Clary, I'm pretty sure I couldn't stay out of this if I tried."
For a long moment, Clary just seemed vaguely shocked, then a smile slowly spread across her face, as though she wasn't sure she was supposed to smile or not. "Thanks." She said softly.
Silvia just smiled in return, then took a deep breath. "And... do you know who the father is?"
Clary hung her head. "He's the reason why I don't want to carry the baby. I know he'll use it against me."
"How do you use a baby against a person?" Silvia wondered out loud.
"Alright, maybe not against me," Clary relented, "But for his own argument. See, I slept with him a little bit ago, and... It was probably an error on my part. He was really sweet and all, and he was a real gentleman, and I guess I was lonely that night, but..." Clary met her roommate's eyes. "He's in love with me. I mean, in love. And I... just don't feel that way. I just wanted a fling, Y'know? But I guess he saw it as something more, because ever since then, he's been trying to get me to see him regularly... you know, as his girlfriend."
A small 'ah' from Silvia. "And knowing he had a child with you would only cement that feeling."
She nodded. "I really didn't mean to go that far, but... I don't want a child with him. He's going to want to raise it with me, and that means he'll see me more, and that means he'll think even more that there's some kind of chance for us, and he'll start acting like we're married..." She trailed off into space.
"So what we need to do is make it obvious with him that you intend to raise this child on your own." Silvia said smoothly, cutting into whatever trouble was distracting her roommate now.
Clary looked back at her, vaguely confused. "But I thought you said...?"
Silvia shook her head. "That doesn't mean we need to tell him that. Trust me, men are all the same: give them an inch and they'll take a mile. You want him to stay out, you need to act like you want everyone to stay out."
"Right." Clary said, with more conviction than she thought. It was strange, she reflected, how similar talking about raising children and dodging unwanted boyfriends could sound so much like fitting out a battle strategy. Maternity and romance were new to her, but plots and strategies for using people were. The father would be less of a problem than an annoyance, and the child...
Later, when she was a little bit older, Clary would look on this day, this moment sitting there at the kitchen table with the roommate who she would one day call sister, this was the first moment she felt like she could actually do this.